


Rhythm and Blues

by Sarah_Sandwich



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Absent Parents, Gen, M/M, POV Flash Thompson, flash keeps all of his true emotions on the inside, hence the squinting, repressed flash if you squint, unrequited crush if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:43:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29557218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Sandwich/pseuds/Sarah_Sandwich
Summary: Flash is stuck late at school and sees something he isn't supposed to.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 249





	Rhythm and Blues

Flash re-enters the school with an ugly tattered hole bleeding in his chest threatening to tear him to the ground.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. So what if decathlon practice has been every Tuesday and Thursday after school for the past three months? So what if his parents have forgotten to schedule a driver to pick him up at least half of those days? He can handle it. He’s smart. He’s resourceful. He can call his own driver. It’s _fine._

He stops walking and rests his forehead on a cool metal locker, forcing back frustrated tears. He should be used to this by now. It’s not new. Does he have to break down like a baby every time he’s left ~~behind~~ _waiting?_ Left _waiting_ like someone unimportant. Someone forgettable. Someone unlovab—

A laugh echoes through the deserted hallway like a distant bell.

Something red hot and putrid crawls up the back of his throat and his feet begin to move. Who else is here? The school should be empty by now. Decathlon practice ended almost an hour ago and the other extracurriculars should have followed soon after.

He stops outside the gymnasium doors with no memory of how he got there as another laugh spills out into the hall. This time he recognizes it.

_Parker._

His palm is on the handle, ready to shove the door open when movement catches his eye through the tall narrow window in the door. It’s dim in the gym—only lit by what little of the dying afternoon sun filters in through the windows way up near the ceiling, casting everything in a muted golden light. There’s light enough to see Parker spin by in the arms of that new Keener kid, not a note of music to be heard.

Harley Keener. He hated him the instant he learned his name. _Harley,_ like the motorcycle. It’s his given name and everything. He didn’t believe it until he nicked his wallet and saw it printed there on his State of Tennessee diver’s license with his own eyes.

_Harley._ It almost makes a name like _Flash_ seem ridiculously contrived.

A giggle recaptures his attention as Parker stumbles, socked feet tangling with Harley’s and nearly sending him tumbling if not for the firm steady hands on his waist.

“How are you this much of a klutz, Parker?” Harley asks, his accented voice warm and impossibly fond.

Parker grins up at him. They’re still now, standing in each other’s air, sunlit and at peace in a way he’s never seen Parker despite knowing him for the better part of a decade. He’s a spaz. Always fidgeting, always rushing around late for something. But not now. He looks up at Harley like he’s a sky full of stars.

“Sorry,” Parker says breathlessly.

Something heavy settles in his gut, uncomfortable and wiggly. They’re standing far too close. They look ridiculous. Harley’s chin is nearly to his chest and one hand is still holding Parker by the waist while the other lifts to cup his cheek, then slides down to rest on the side of his neck.

Wait.

“Hold still a second,” Harley whispers, barely audible.

“Harley,” Parker breathes, knuckles going white as he curls his fingers through Harley’s belt loop.

Harley leans in and Parker goes up on his toes and then—

He lurches back from the door. Mind reeling as it replays the scene over and over, he’s hardly cognizant of the quick long strides that carry him to the front of the school.

They were—

And they looked at each other like—

Then they ki—

That means Parker is—

And the names he’s been calling him are—

Oh. Oh fuck.

~*~

He corners Parker two days later between periods. He wants to get this over with before decathlon practice this afternoon so he isn’t distracted and this way it’s guaranteed to be a quick conversation since they both have class to get to.

Belatedly, he realizes how boxing him in by the water fountain at the end of the art hall might look to someone he’s lightly bullied for years, but Parker doesn’t look alarmed or scared. No, he looks _concerned_ and not even for himself.

“Everything okay, Flash?” he asks, adjusting his textbooks against his chest. They’ve got those homemade brown paper covers on them and it looks like he and Ned went to town covering them in doodles and cartoons. MJ too, judging by the sketches along the spine. He’s always wanted the same for his textbooks but his parents would lose it if they knew he was going around with books that look like they belong to a poor person.

Besides, he’s not very good at art and it’s not like he has friends who would—

He clears his throat and throws back his shoulders, tightening his grip on his textbook as he tucks it against his hip. “I just wanted you to know that I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?” Parker asks.

“About…” He glances around. A few students disappear into the art room but this far from the hub of classrooms and intersections, the hallway is emptying fast. He turns back to Parker and leans in. “I saw you in the gym on Tuesday.”

Parker cocks his head. “We have P.E. on Mondays,” he says slowly. “Are you sure you’re—,”

“No,” he snaps, then lowers his tone further. “After decathlon. I saw you and Harley.”

Parker flushes pink and opens his mouth.

He rushes on. “I just want to make sure you know that I never meant those things I’ve called you. I was just messing around. I’m not— I’m not—,” He looks around then whispers, “a _homophobe_ or anything.”

Parker gapes at him. “I— That’s— Flash—,”

“It’s cool that you guys are in love or whatever,” he continues.

“Oh wow. _Love_ is umm—,”

“Oh shut up,” he says, ignoring the way Parker is beet red all the way to his roots. “I know what I saw. All I’m saying is, I’ll call you other names from now on since I know now. Penis is a timeless classic. Don’t try to tell me it’s homophobic because there’s nothing inherently gay about dick.”

Parker gapes at him then finally shakes his head and says, “Dude, I don’t care what you call me. I know you’re not a homophobe.”

Relief floods through him and all at once, he becomes aware of his sweaty palms, how tense his shoulders are, and how _stupid_ this whole thing is. He should be in class.

“Okay, cool.” He flicks a bit of the book cover where the paper is torn and curling then steps back. “Later, Penis.”

He makes it two steps before Parker stops him.

“Wait, Flash!” He hurries in front of him and stops. “Umm, we’re going to get pizza at Joe’s after practice tonight if you want to come.”

He pulls a face. “Just because I'm not an asshole doesn't mean I want to tag along on your date, Parker.”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s not— Ned and MJ will be there too. It’s not a date. Just, uh, friends hanging out.” He shrugs and starts backing down the hall. “Come or don’t but umm, the invite’s there if you want it.”

“I don’t need your pity, Parker,” he calls after him.

Peter just waves and hurries off as the bell rings.

Great. He’s late for World History. He sighs and makes his way to the other side of the school.

Whatever. Pizza sounds alright. Maybe if he’s hungry he’ll tag along—for the pizza of course—but they’re going to _Joe’s?_ The least they could do is pick a classy pizza joint like Rose Marie’s. Maybe he can convince them to change venues.

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to American Pie and then this happened.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @sarah-sandwich!


End file.
